Let us replace the word “toxic” in our cultural lexicon in reference to the human condition; our collective struggle through layers of suffering. It’s pathologizing. It is psychologically othering in terms of projecting unwanted qualities and experiences outside of ourselves, onto others that we then need to then stay away from.
No one wants to identify with being a toxic person or feel like they have toxicity living inside of them. It’s a substance we want to rid ourselves of immediately in order to not suffer the consequences of being poisonous.
This kind of thinking and labeling is part of how we get addicted to “clearing” out negative energy or thinking anything “negative” or uncomfortable we feel is because of someone else. It is what makes us scared of ourselves, unable to be present or intimate with our own depths.
In your wholeness, you are everything.
You are light and love and darkness and hate. You are anger and rage and the utmost compassion and radiance imaginable.
We are also wounded humans living in a world that not only perpetuates wounding but profits off it. Our culture is not literate in the language of the soul or pain or grief.
So, we other it, project it out into others and make them “toxic” or people that do not serve our highest good. It perpetuates this idea that we are somehow untarnished and other people are the problem. Sometimes it is our very wounding that seeks out people who make us uncomfortable in order to try to get our attention for healing.
What if we replaced this word “toxic” with the word wounded?
Grief is far from one tone. It is as layered, nuanced and complex as our human experience.
We love deeply. Part of the loving is in the inevitable letting go of what we have loved. Letting the love morph, take a different shape that is sometime no shape at all. That’s the part that hurts. That’s the part that makes us afraid to love again.
Grief is love.
It is the power of life and love and spirit urging you to keep your heart open, to keep loving and expanding, including even the lost bits in your mourning. Because, in every mourning, many of the ungrieved pieces arrive to see if your heart will stay open as a way of staking it’s claim on your wholeness.
Grieve what and who and and how something has been lost. Know that some endings are traumatic; deepening the grief with questions the mind wants answered. Let your heart speak to your mind, to let the mind know that now the heart takes over.
Your heart is wise and strong and knows what to do. For its strength is in how deeply you love. This grief is a last act of loving what has been. This last act will change you. Do not let your mind interfere with figuring out facts and figures, next steps or moves to take.
Grieve your relationship to what’s been lost. Our life is a living breathing relationship. Inside and out. Our engagement with life creates these third parties...relationships; the containers in which we whisper and exchange, connect and disconnect, laugh and cry, find exiled parts or birth ourselves into new ways of being.